(This post is in response to the prompt “Tell a story about a time when you had to honor your reality” for the DIY MFA Book Club. To learn more about the club, click here.) When I started down the writer’s path, I quickly realized that setting boundaries and being occasionally selfish (gasp!) with my time is okay, even healthy. As a born people-pleaser, I created a lot of codependency in my relationships. The line between true reality and perceived reality became fuzzy. I wou

As I drove out of my neighborhood one day last week, I passed a teenage boy riding his bike. He wore no helmet and had one hand on the handlebars, one on his phone while his eyes were fixed to the screen as he rode. He did not once look up in the time it took me to pass him, riding along oblivious to the beautiful day happening around him, numb to the present moment. Before the days of information instant gratification, people wondered. How far is planet Earth from the sun? W

Each and every day we have a choice – the path of love or the path of fear. We are responsible only for our actions and our reactions. We cannot choose or dictate how others will behave, no matter how much we might want to. I chose the path of fear in my life for many years. When I choose fear, I feel small and weak. Powerless. I forget who I am. I forget the truth that I am light and love. I forget that I hold power and wisdom within me. I forget that I am whole just as I am

When I was about twelve years old, I went to the beach with my family. I loved playing in the ocean. I had no fear of it. I especially loved finding sand dollars! It was an amazing little gift from nature to find them. One day, I ran headlong into the ocean water, jumping waves as I ran and managed to catch my foot just right on the edge of a sand dollar. It ripped a gash in my big toe that kept me out of the water for the rest of the trip. Where I came from, you only saw a d

mere: being nothing more or better than During my quiet time this morning, I found myself writing something I frequently say, “I don’t believe in coincidence.” And this is true. I don’t believe in coincidence. I believe that everything happens for a reason, though it may be a while before the reason is apparent, if ever. Then out of the blue, a question appeared. “If you don’t believe in coincidence, why do you still question your own existence?” Growing up, I was frequently